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User blog:CuteLunaMoon/Bloody sunset
My coat is soaked in putrid, black blood, with only the light of the sunset reflecting off of its slick surface. In one hand I grip my trusty hunter ax, the closest thing I have to a friend in this living hell. My heavy breath forms small white puffs in the early winter air. I throw my nervous look on the narrow street. There's no one left. I drag my wounded leg to a corner near the burning corpse of a beast and bring out a Blood Vial from my jacket. The needle hurts me a bit but thankfully the bitemark heals and the pain is gone partially. Not that the pain is relieved, a euphoria comes to me as the stench of blood hits my nose. For a moment, all I can think of is the sweetness of the blood dripping from the bodies lying nearby. When the strange euphoria is gone, the thought of tasting the dripping blood startles me. I pull out a small brass mirror and look into it nervously. I'm still me. I know it. I'm different. I'm no beast, at least, for now. But something deep down inside of me has changed. I have always been afraid of blood. But now I am drawn to it. And sometimes I feel that the blood sings to me. I inspect the corpses of the townfolks I killed earlier. I find some spare bullets for my pistol. I cut open the veins of the deadmen and let the oozing blood drip into an empty bottle. They should not have attacked me. I didn't want to kill them. When I first came here, I didn't think much about it. "Go hunt a few beasts. It's for your own good," Gehrman, the hunter assistant said. But when I talked to Djura, I started to realize how horrible the hunt is. Djura was right. The beasts I hunted were just human. These folks I killed gave me no other choice than ending their suffering. Looking at their mishappen faces, I mutter a prayer for them. May the good blood guide their souls to heaven. I also found some rusk in a dead man's pocket. I wash down a mouthful of rusk with a gulp of Blood Cocktail. I have been using this stuff for a while. Now I cannot quit it. The intoxicating want to drink more and more blood sometimes fight me for control. This is it. The curse of Yharnam. Djura has warned me about it. The sun casts its golden ray down upon the clouds of billowing smoke, turning them blood red. The cracking sound of the fire and the smell of burning fur fill the air with a rancid stench. The fog slowly creeps on the cobblestone street. Gazing over the corpse of the beast patient, It gives me a shiver. How long does it take to turn a people into this mishappen creature? How much time do I have left? And as they say, the hunters and the clerics turn into most grotesque inhuman beasts. The hunters before me mysteriously disappeared and the folks spread rumors about their crime in the past. I heard gunfire and scream somewhere near. The snarl of beasts, the scream of folks, the heart-wrenching cry of a baby... These things aren't too strange on a night of the hunt. Laying my back against the wall, I take as much rest as I can. After all, the night is long and the nightmare is unending... Category:Blog posts